"We need to get out of here," Jericho said urgently — but it was too late. The rank smell of a rogue was already wafting into the room as the shooter from the roof swaggered in through the broken door.
"Well, damn." The man spat on the floor. "That was altogether too easy. Jericho has fallen." He was a medium-sized man with a barrel chest and a ridiculously bushy mustache that looked like a push broom stuck under his too-large nose.
"Who the hell are you?" Jasmin barked, easing her body between the rogue assassin and the others.
"Oh, I guess you don't recognize me yet. But soon, very soon, my name will be more notorious than Jericho Carroll's, that's for sure. I'm Carl Duprey, at your service." He raised his rifle and aimed it directly at Jasmin's chest. "Now step aside, pretty lady. I'
